I love animals I’ve always found Their affection and pure trust admirable and heart warming, who doesn’t like beasties? Well serial killers don’t count. I believe being raised by my grandparents who are truly the nicest people in the world. My Joe is a botonist and zoologist his insight and view of the world around us we take for granted knowing nothing about the what, when’s and how’s of everything. Once you know you know. You see things completely differently once you understand them. I suppose this exact thought applies to human relations, I’m bad at that it’s so uncomfortable yet I can pet my pet bot belly pig for hours ear to her heart listening to those big lungs and heart. A connection. I was eight that spring when we saw a golden curly haired cocker spaniel in the window of the pet store on the town Boulevard. He was the ultimate picture perfect fluffy puffy puppy in the world I wanted him so bad.
It was a few weeks later and I had forgotten about that cute puppy. I came home from school from just another day at school and first thing off dads car was home, dad was never home he lived in his logging truck to just feed us. Knowing he was home meant that mum would be on her best behaviour one could say. That creeking screen door closed behind me as I seen him. That perfect fluffy puffy puppy it was like seeing a unicorn. Right away my younger sister said Samson, so that was his name. We loved him, brushed him bows in his big floppy ears oh for two little girls he was perfection. I wasn’t long before Samsons hair began to grow long, we brushed him but keeping up with so much hair was very difficult. I thought I was doing my best but I was a kid there just no understanding. Now I know that cocker Spaniel dogs require grooming and proper ear care when they get moist and cause infections. Samson never got a proper wash or grooming of any kind. He was tied outside no shelter I remember watching him through the bathroom window sitting in the mud rain pouring. He was all matted and full of dirt. It was hot that summer and Samson had gotten into the garbage, she beat him around dragged him outside tying the yellow rope tightly around his neck. I can see Sanson chocking and gagging almost, the puke seemed to just roll out as he gagged. I cried for days looking outside seeing Samson all rolled over head down whimpering. Dad came home that weekend and saw Samson in distress it was a chicken bone in his throat. After days of gagging the bone had poked through the skin. We had no money so going to a vet was never a option. Dad poured peroxide all over and in his mouth he tipped his head back and ripped that bone right out. The scream he made was horrible I was frantic inside but frozen. The blood and frothing peroxide boiled out dad grabbed the garden hose and stuck it directly into the outside puncture in his neck, washing out the infection that rotting smell. His ears had been smelling so bad for months dad washed all the green and yellow infection ran out of his bleeding ears as pouring the peroxide in at the same time Samson slept that night for the first time in days probably one of few nights ahead.
As time passed it was not long and the infection returned his ears running with puss his necked swollen into a absese. He just layed on the step I the heat of summer unable to walk his feet had grown tight with hair and blood matted the pads, it hurt. He smelt awful The flies just circling him. If I knew better I should have told someone. I remember dad coming home and finding him by this time his throat wound was green the Abses was bigger than a grapefruit. His infected wet leak mouldy ear had maggots crawling down the sides of his head, he was dying slowly of infection it was awful to see dad have to use a shovel to unstick his bum from the porch the fecese dried like glue. We wrapped him together in a flannel blanket. I sat petting his head while dad went inside, he came out with his 22 over his shoulder.
I watched my fluffy puffy puppy go off into the red sunset over dads shoulder. I stood there heart broken in silence. That crack of a shotgun echoed over the water and mountains.
Your not forgotten